


A Different Kind of Magic

by K_K_TiBal



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magic, First Kiss, Healer Castiel, M/M, Magic, POV Castiel, Spells & Enchantments, Urban Fantasy, Witch Castiel, Witch Curses, i know nothing about actual witchcraft, so keep that in mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 12:52:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7935247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_K_TiBal/pseuds/K_K_TiBal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is a witch that prides himself on his healing spells and Dean is that one customer that keeps coming into his shop with a different illness that needs curing. </p><p>-</p><p>Castiel looked up and raised an eyebrow. “Well, Dean, you’ve been cursed.”<br/>Dean’s eyes widened at the buzzword. “Cursed? What do you mean?”<br/>Castiel looked at him sympathetically as he pulled out a small, square bottle. “You either made a witch very angry or made someone that knows a witch very angry.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different Kind of Magic

**Author's Note:**

> For Castihalo, who has a fondness for Witch!Cas :)
> 
> I'm over at [thebloggerbloggerfun](http://thebloggerbloggerfun.tumblr.com) if you're interested.

The smell of lavender began permeating the air the moment Castiel lit the incense. It was one of his favorite scents to have going in his shop, seeing as it not only smelled relaxing, but also helped clear the air of any unclean spirits that may have decided to stay. Castiel would never speak badly about about a customer, but he wouldn’t be surprised if something attached to one of them decided to stick around.

A small bundle of black fur padded onto his work desk as sunlight began to peek through the front window.

“Careful, Hannah,” he murmured, scratching under her chin as she purred. “Remember what happened last time you accidentally stepped into my spell.”

The cat made a disgruntled sound and sat promptly on a corner of the table as Castiel continued his work.

Yesterday, a woman had come in looking for a spell to help find lost objects. While Castiel considered his specialty to be healing, he did have a few of those spells kept in bottles and the woman had delightedly bought all he had. It was good for business, but bad for his concentration.

Lost object spells were a difficult bit of stock to replace.

A few crushed pineapple leaves and a bit of his own memory later, he had almost filled three bottles with something that would help a person retrieve their car keys.

Castiel circled his hand over the bottles a few times, whispering under his breath as the sound of the front door opening and beads jingling nearly interrupted his ritual.

“Be with you in a moment,” he said, eyes still fixated on the bottles and continued the chant.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled at the bit of magic within himself and coaxed it to the palm of his hand and curled it into a fist. For a moment, it crackled under his skin, hot and sharp - and then he opened his fingers, releasing the finishing touch of the spell into the bottles with a faint glow.

The magic dissipated and Castiel looked up with a smile on his face, though he felt a little more weary than he’d been a few minutes ago.

“How can I help you?”

A man that looked to be in his late twenties, with light hair and a vaguely astonished expression, stood staring at the bottles Castiel had just finished with.

“I, uh -” The man licked his lips and looked up at Castiel. “Sorry, I’ve seen it done in person before but that was... different.”

Castiel smiled and reached into his desk to pull out three corks and stopped the top of each bottle.

“A little underwhelming, I know.”

“No, it’s actually really -” The man shook his head and winced a little. “- uh, anyway. I’m looking for something that can cure migraines? I’ve got this killer one that won’t go away and I’ve tried aspirin and all kinds of shit.” He smirked a little. “Okay, well, not everything. My brother suggested I see a witch.”

Castiel put the bottles aside and walked around the desk to stand in front of the man, studying him curiously.

“How long have you had it?” he asked softly, trying not to make any loud noises as he peered into his eyes. They were a color that he’d only seen in the jade stone Castiel wore around his neck.

Green-eyes blinked a little and shifted uncomfortably. “Like two days now.”

“Alright, let me assess first. I apologize, this might seem a bit intimate.” Castiel lifted his hands towards the man’s head. “May I?”

After a moment of confusion, Green-eyes nodded, and Castiel placed two fingers on either side of his temples.

He closed his eyes and tilted his head to the side as he reached within himself once more, searching for the small bundle of magic he carried, letting it flow up his arms and press against the man’s mind. Castiel frowned. Instead of easily sensing the pain that was obviously present, a barrier of some sort blocked him from being able to take the pain away.

“Hmmmm.” Castiel licked his lips and took his hands away.

Green-eyes looked a little worried when Castiel opened his eyes again. “Hmmmm what?” he asked.

“What’s your name?” Castiel asked, as he calmly walked back to his work desk.

“Dean. What’s, uh - what’s up? Anything wrong?”

Castiel looked up and raised an eyebrow. “Well, Dean, you’ve been cursed.”

Dean’s eyes widened at the buzzword. “Cursed? What do you mean?”

“Someone gave you a spell-made migraine for whatever reason and made it difficult to take away.” Castiel looked at him sympathetically as he pulled out a small, square bottle. “You either made a witch very angry or made someone that knows a witch very angry.”

Castiel chuckled as Dean let out a string of curses.

“Can you get rid of it?”

Castiel nodded and clicked his tongue.

“Grab me the sage, will you, Hannah?” he asked, as he searched through the drawers.

The black cat blinked once, then darted into the back room, returning a few moments later with the herb firmly in her mouth.

“Thank you.” He looked up at Dean, who still seemed a little shell-shocked, and placed the sage, the bottle, and some juniper on the table. “Now you’ll have to drink this,” he said, pointing at the square-bottle, “While you’re burning the sage and juniper together. If you do that it should be gone in the next hour. Any questions?”

Dean blinked. “Does your cat understand you?”

Castiel laughed and ran a hand down her fur. “Of course. She is my familiar.”

“Huh.” Dean shrugged his shoulders and began pulling out his wallet. “Well, what do I owe you?”

Castiel tapped his fingers against the desk as he thought. “Tomorrow’s blue.”

Dean paused and squinted his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“I would like all the color blue that you’ll see tomorrow. I think that’s a fair exchange.”

“All the -” Dean shook his head, and winced again. “I don’t get it.”

Castiel pulled out a small wooden box and opened it in front of Dean. “I simply do a small spell, and tomorrow any blue you see will seem grey and I will get all of the blue,” he tapped the box with a finger, “- right in here.”

Dean looked a little dumbfounded as he slowly put his wallet back in his back pocket. “Alright,” he said slowly, “I’m cool with that. What do you need the blue for?”

“Many spells require it. It’s easier to get donations than to use my own.” Castiel held up the box again. “Fair trade?”

Dean nodded. “Hell, whatever it takes.”

“Wonderful,” Castiel held out his hand to seal the deal, and let the tendrils of magic flow as Dean gripped his hand tightly. There was a small shock of impact as they connected and the deal was struck.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you,” Castiel said with a small nod. “I hope you feel better soon.”

Dean scooped up the ingredients and sighed. “Me too.”

***

Castiel’s herb garden was coming along wonderfully.

There had been a time a few months back that he’d accidentally left the air conditioning on too cold for too long and had caused his precious plants to wither significantly. It took a green thumb, some small magic, and lots of patience to get it back to the state it was currently in. He hummed as he plucked some of the honeysuckle and tied it into a tight bundle before hanging it up to dry.

The sound of the bell above his doorway reached his ears from the back room, and he made his way to the front.

“Oh,” he smiled as he recognized the face of the man that he’d seen just a few days ago. “Hello, Dean. Did your migraine not go away?”

Dean nodded as he held a tissue up to his nose. “It definitely did. As soon as I drank whatever the hell was in that bottle, it disappeared almost instantly.”

Castiel coughed in an attempt to hide his amusement at the sound of Dean’s voice. He’d obviously been plagued by what seemed to be a nasty cold that had taken over his nasal cavity. “And now you’d like to cure your sniffles.”

Dean shrugged almost apologetically. “I woke up in the middle of the night like this. I can barely breathe.”  

Castiel nodded as he began pulling out a few ingredients. “Luckily for you, colds are fairly easy to cure, even if it’s a cursed cold.”

“Lucky me.”

Pulling out a small brown bag, Castiel dumped a careful amount of herbs into it along with some dried fruit and a small bit of clear quartz that he’d enchanted about a month ago. “Make yourself a nice cup of tea out of this and it should clear right up.” He rolled the top of the paper bag. “How was your blueless day?”

“Interesting,” Dean shrugged and took a moment to sneeze into his tissue, “Kept wondering if things were grey or blue. I think it’s a pretty easy price to pay.”

Castiel let out a huff of amusement, “I asked it of an artist once and he acted like I was asking for his right arm. Though I may as well have been, I suppose. To some the price is big, to some it’s small.”

“Huh,” Dean looked a little thoughtful and rubbed his nose with the tissue, “I guess I hadn’t thought of that. So what’s the price for the tea? The color green?”

Castiel shook his head, even though Dean only appeared to be making a joke. “I’d like a memory.”

Dean’s face screwed up in confusion. “A memory? Like what kind?”

“Any kind,” Castiel explained patiently, already pulling out an empty bottle to store it in. “Good or bad. Mundane or interesting.The kind doesn’t affect the spell, but I should warn you that it will disappear from your mind forever, so choose wisely.”

He watched as Dean chewed on his lower lip for a few moments before nodding. “Yeah okay. I got one.” he cleared his throat, “So how do you -”

Castiel was already taking a step forward and placing an open palm on Dean’s forehead. “Just concentrate on the memory, if you please.”

At first, he couldn’t feel anything. Just a swirl of thoughts that he could sense but not read until one was shoved to the forefront. Castiel closed his fist and pulled, gently retrieving the memory from Dean’s mind and pouring it into the empty bottle.

“Could, uh - could you read that?” Dean asked.

Castiel shook his head as he corked the bottle. “Not at all. Did you want me to?”

“I - I don’t remember what it was. Probably not, though.”

Castiel gently stored the bottle up in his ingredients cabinet and handed the brown paper bag full of the special tea to his customer. “Thank you for the payment, Dean. I hope to see you again, though hopefully during different circumstances.”

“You and me both.” Dean saluted as he walked through the expanse of hanging beads and out the door.

***

“And you have no idea what you did?”

Castiel raised an eyebrow in disbelief as he began grinding his bundle of herbs and healing concoction into a green paste.

Dean groaned and leaned against the counter, scratching at the rash that had spread from his arm up to his neck. “No idea.”

“Leave it alone or it’ll fester,” Castiel said sternly and Dean immediately dropped his hand.

“So... Cas. Where did you learn all of this healing stuff from?”

Castiel looked up and saw Dean studying the different gemstones Castiel had on display on a table. For some reason, Dean had taken to calling him by the nickname over the past few trips he’d had to make to Castiel’s shop. For some reason, there was a new affliction each time. Whomever Dean had made angry was looking for some petty revenge.

“Some of it was taught to me by my father. Most of it came from the power within me.”

Dean glanced up at him and grinned. “So what you’re saying is that you’re a natural.”

Castiel circled his hand over the paste and released a spark of magic on it, creating a yellow puff of smoke that he hoped distracted Dean from the small flush that had appeared on his face.

“More or less.”

There was a slight scraping sound as Castiel scooped the paste into small vial with a spoon.

“What about those beads? What are they for? Cleansing the air or something?”

Castiel cleared his throat as he screwed the lid on and looked at the stringed beads that hung in front of the doorway.

“Ah, no. Those, I admit, exist because it adds to the atmosphere.” Castiel shrugged. “People want to see what they expect to see. So I provide that.”

“Well, you sure got me.”

Castiel held out the bottle with a smile.

Dean had spent a majority of his visit today asking Castiel various questions about himself and his witchcraft.

It was perfectly natural, Castiel supposed. If you were going to be continually coming to a specific witch for their services, it was probably a good idea to get to know them.

Dean swallowed as he eyed the bottle and Castiel sensed the small amount of hesitancy that usually accompanied this part of the sale.

“How much?” he asked.

Castiel tilted his head to the side. He’d spent most of the preparation time while making the paste thinking about what he was he was going to charge this time.

“Twenty-four hours of taste.”

Dean’s jaw dropped.

“Like, I won't be able to _taste_ anything?”

“For twenty-four hours, yes.”

“I’ve got a barbeque tomorrow!”

Castiel had to hide his amusement at finally asking for something that seemed to be a little too much for Dean. Of all things, _taste_ was the straw that broke the camel’s back.

“Your taste for the paste.”  

Dean frowned and seemed to be concentrating on something.

“Twelve hours.” he finally said.

Castiel raised an eyebrow at the bargain, secretly a little pleased that Dean was learning.

“Twenty,” he countered.

“Sixteen.”

Castiel folded his arms against his chest.

“Eighteen hours.”

Dean clutched a hand to his chest dramatically, like the offer still personally hurt him.

“You’re killing me, Cas. I’ve got a _barbeque._ ”

Castiel tossed the vial of paste from hand to hand.

“And I’ve got a stomach-soothing spell that needs some juice to it.” Castiel held out his hand, ready for the deal to be struck. “Seventeen hours. Final offer. And just because I like you.”

Dean’s posture straightened a little, obviously pleased by that statement, and the praise was just enough to get him to fold.

“Alright. Fine.” Dean grasped Castiel’s hand and barely jumped at the small shock of magic this time around.

Castiel pulled his hand back and handed Dean the paste that would cure his rash. “Apply that to the infected spot and get a good night’s sleep.”

“Is that a part of the spell?” Dean asked as he tucked the vial into his jacket pocket.

“No,” Castiel said and dropped the extra ingredients back into his desk. “You just look like you could use it.”

Dean rubbed at the back of his neck and smiled. “Thanks, Cas. I’ll see you later.”

As much as Castiel wanted Dean to stop getting inflicted with different illnesses, he hoped he’d get to see him later as well.

***

“Dean, I’m getting very concerned,” Castiel said when Dean walked into his shop again, this time with sore throat so bad he could barely talk. ”It’s been two months since you were first cursed. The illnesses just keep coming.”

Dean waved his hand dismissively as Castiel prepared a tea that consisted of mainly honeysuckle and lemon rinds.”Don’t worry about it,” he said, his voice scratchy and hoarse.

“But I do,” Castiel frowned and began writing sigils on the teacup in black ink. “I think I’m going to start asking around and seeing if my contacts know anything about an angry witch -”

“No!” Dean almost immediately winced after using his voice that way. “I mean, I don’t want you to make enemies or anything, man. It’s all good.” He attempted a smile. “I’ll figure it out and in the meantime I’ll just keep coming here.”

Castiel made an unconvinced grumble but took the kettle of water off the small fire he’d made in mid-air.

Dean said the same thing the day he came in with pink-eye and the day he had an ear infection and the day he had a discolored bruise that wouldn’t go away on its own.

None of it was anything too serious, but it was consistent enough to make Castiel worried about his new friend.

The moment he saw Dean walk through the beads of his store the next time, Castiel sighed and immediately started pulling out base healing ingredients. “Alright, hold on, Dean. Go sit in that chair, and I’ll -”

“Whoa, wait, Cas,” Dean chuckled and held up his hands. “I’m not sick this time.”

Castiel froze halfway through looking for the sage and let himself process that information. “You’re not?”

Dean turned around in a full circle, as if that would prove that no inch of him was ill in any way. “Nope. Not even a little.”

“Oh.” Castiel leaned against his front counter and let out a breath of relief. “Well then... how can I help you?”

Dean smiled coyly and pulled out a piece of paper.

“Well, actually, I’d like to buy some herbs and shit today.”

Castiel rolled his eyes but allowed himself to smile. “By all means. I support anyone wanting to create their own minor spells.”

Dean coughed and shuffled his feet a little. If anything, he actually seemed a little nervous, but Castiel had no room to judge. He himself had nearly thrown up from nerves before he had to cast his own first spell.

“Okay,” Dean squinted at the list, “So I need some African Violet leaves.”

Castiel raised an eyebrow curiously but easily found a small bundle on one of his shelves and set it on the counter. “One down.”

“- some gardenia oil -”

He just so happened to have one small vial left.

“- dried orange blossoms -”

Castiel slowly found some that he’d hung to dry two weeks ago and tied them together with a string.

“- patchouli leaf powder -”

A small package was set on the counter.

“- and some jade.”

The jade was something that Dean seemed to remember he’d seen on a display on a table just next to him, and he picked up the gemstone, setting it on the counter next to the other ingredients.

“So how much for all of this?” he said with a wide smile.

Castiel stood for a few moments, staring at all of the ingredients that Dean wanted to purchase. One or two would be a coincidence, but all of these used together were unquestionable.

Dean was creating what could only be described as a “Good Luck in Love” spell.

It wouldn’t be anything too strong, especially since he wasn’t a magic user, but everything used together would definitely sway fate to be more favorable to him if he decided to pursue a love interest.

A heavy, dark feeling sunk low in Castiel’s gut and settled there as he tried to get his mouth to work.

Dean was in love, and he was going to try to make a move.

Why did that bother him so much?

“Cas?”

Castiel jerked his head up as Dean called his name, remembering that Dean was waiting for an answer.

“Your love,” he heard himself saying.

Dean’s smile faded slightly.

“M-my what?”

There was a tightness in Castiel’s chest, and the petty and jealous part of him clawed its way to the surface.

“I want any romantic love you feel for the next three days.”

Dean gaped in disbelief, and stared like he was trying to figure out if Castiel was serious. Part of Castiel agreed with him, but he’d dug himself in too far to stop now.

“Well… you can’t have that,” Dean said.

Castiel clenched his jaw and folded his arms in front of his chest. “Then we don’t have a deal.”

“C’mon, Cas,” Dean pleaded, “Anything else. Even my taste. I don’t want to be a robot for three days.”

Castiel scoffed. “Don’t be ignorant. Plenty of people live without romantic love. You’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, but-” Dean frowned, “Cas, please.”

Castiel shook his head, ignoring the sane part of him that was telling him he was being unreasonable.

“These ingredients are expensive and I have some love potions to make.”

Dean squinted his eyes suspiciously. “You told me you don’t believe in love potions.”

“That’s the price, Dean!” Castiel smacked his fist against the counter angrily, letting his emotions get the better of him. “Take it or leave it.”

Dean stared back, mouth hanging open as he stared at Castiel like he didn’t recognize him. Guilt was already working its way to the surface, but Castiel shoved it down to deal with later. Right now he wanted to be unabashedly selfish.

“Leave it, I guess.” Dean muttered, taking a step away from the counter.

Castiel nodded once and began putting the ingredients back where he found them. “Anything else I can do for you?” Even he could tell that his own speech sounded stilted and unnaturally precise.

He turned when he was only met with silence and saw Dean move the beads aside and step out the door without another word.

Castiel leaned heavily against the table, curling his hands into fists and shutting his eyes.

Stupid.

Selfish.

 _Selfish_.

***

The downside to running a shop that at least partially depended on the wellbeing of his magic was that when Castiel was feeling down, so did the atmosphere. The herb garden was already starting to droop and wither after struggling to survive a single day in Castiel’s terrible mood, and bottles of spells that should have been faintly glowing were dull and bland.

Even Hannah was avoiding him.

“Be with you in a moment,” Castiel said when he heard the door open and continued circling his hands over the anti-inflammatory spell he was trying to create, with his brows furrowed in frustration. He’d been at it for well over a half-hour but nothing he tried seemed to be working.

He gritted his teeth and yanked at the lethargic wisp of magic within himself and forced it outward, creating a sudden puff of acrid-smelling smoke.

Castiel grumbled to himself and waved the smoke away, finally turning his attention to the customer that had just walked in.

The first thing he noticed was that the man was tall.

Very tall.

Tall, shaggy-haired, and staring at his failed spell with genuine curiosity.

“You doing okay?” the man asked, and switched his gaze to the room around him, obviously studying the dreariness that had taken over the shop recently.

“Just tired,” Castiel said, shoving all thought of Dean from his mind. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, uh,” The man rubbed at the back of his neck and smiled at him guiltily. “First off, I’d just like to apologize.”

Castiel blinked.

“For what?”

The man held out his hand. “My name’s Sam.”

Castiel slowly reached out and took the offered hand, also taking note of the gemstones Sam wore around his neck.

“I’m the witch that’s been cursing Dean.”

Castiel’s eyebrows shot up and he immediately began busying himself with clearing up the remnants of the failed spell around his workspace.

“Oh?” he said casually. “And why was that?”

Sam chuckled and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Well, originally, he put pink hair dye in my shampoo right before I went on a date, so I figured cursing him with a nice migraine would be okay revenge.”

Castiel’s confusion must have shown on his face.

“We’re brothers,” Sam explained.

“Ah.” Castiel wiped his hands on his shirt and sat down on his chair. “Well, I have to say that while I understand, twelve different curses seems a touch excessive as revenge for a prank.”

Sam grinned. “You’re telling me. I kept saying that he needed to stop being such an idiot about it but he had to make this difficult.” He waved a hand like he was citing an obvious fact. “He needed reasons to keep coming back to see you.”

Castiel froze.

“What?”

“I know. I don’t think I’ve ever done that many curses in my life,” Sam laughed, “But anyway. Dean said he was telling you yesterday so I figured I’d drop by and apologize for all the shit we put you through and say hello. You know, witch to witch.”

Castiel slowly dropped his head in his hands and rubbed at his eyes with a soft groan.

Dean hadn’t been trying to confess his feelings to some anonymous stranger.

He’d been trying to confess them to _Castiel._

“Did I- did I say something wrong?”

Castiel shook his head and took a deep breath, mentally kicking himself for jumping to conclusions. “I think I misinterpreted something, Sam.”

When he finally lifted his head back up, Sam a little taken aback.

“Oh,” he said, “Oh no, wait. Did he not - shit, I’m sorry - ”

Castiel waved a hand dismissively and shook his head. “He did. I think. I just....didn’t realize-” he cut himself off and cleared his throat.

“I believe I have an apology to make, Sam.”

***

Castiel fidgeted with the bag of ingredients he’d packed as he rang the doorbell outside of Dean’s apartment.

Sam had gladly given Castiel the address once he’d asked, obviously just as eager to get this misconception straightened out, though he was sorely tempted to just leave the bag on the doorstep and run.

“Just a second,” Castiel’s heart sped up when he heard Dean’s muffled voice on the other side of the door.

The door swung open to reveal a very mussy-haired Dean Winchester who looked like he had probably just woken up from a nap, though seemed to completely wake up the moment he saw Castiel.

“Oh,” Dean immediately ran a hand through his hair and leaned against the doorway. “What are you doing here, Cas?”

Castiel felt himself flush a bright red as he held out the brown bag full of Dean’s order the previous day. “I came to bring you this.”

Castiel watched as Dean’s eyes finally locked onto the bit of honeysuckle poking out over the top of the bag.

“I don’t want it.”

“Look, Dean. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to - ”

Dean shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Cas. Believe it or not this isn’t the first time I’ve been rejected and I’ll get over it. You don’t have to try and make me feel better about-”

“I didn’t reject you!”

Dean paused as Castiel took a deep breath, hugging the bag to his chest.

“I recognized what you were buying - ”

“Well, yeah, that was the point.”

“ - and I thought it was meant for somebody else.”

Castiel hung his head in shame as the look of confusion on Dean’s face turned into dawning comprehension.

“Wait, you thought that - ”

Castiel nodded slowly.

“ - and so you - ”

Castiel let out a breath. “I was petty and selfish. I apologize.”

He waited to hear Dean to scoff and slam the door in his face for behaving so childishly, but instead all he heard was the sound of Dean laughing uproariously.

Castiel stood stunned, as he waited for Dean to calm down enough to speak words again.

“Cas, that was - ” he gasped as he tried to get air and wrapped his arms around his sides. “ - that was _stone cold._ ”

“Yes,” Castiel agreed, though he thought that was obvious.

“Oh man, I’m _impressed.”_ Dean wiped away a tear as he finally seemed to come down from the high. “Well, will I - ” he gestured towards the brown paper bag Castiel still held, “ - will I still be needing that, then?”

A small smile had finally crept across Castiel’s face as he’d watched Dean’s infectious laughter and he shook his head. “No. Not for me.” He dropped the bag at his feet.

“Good,” Dean took a step closer and leaned in, ever so slightly.  “So, what’ll it cost me to get a kiss?”

Castiel’s heart jumped to his throat when he realized how close Dean was to him.

“Your love.” he murmured.

“Deal.”

Castiel closed his eyes as Dean closed the distance, and this time, the spark that they felt between them was an entirely different kind of magic.


End file.
